Rents fit for a king, a shortage of parking and prices that even have visiting Manhattan-ites scurrying for the nearest ATM, have done little to dull the corner that San Francisco has long held on Bay Area cool. The reason is simple, the Bay Area’s ‘burbs have, historically, failed to offer urban-centric hipsters the same conveniences, or the pedestrian and transit-friendly, neighborhood-village feel, as The City.
Cool cafés, promenade shops, and a bohemian vibe, found in the outskirts
By Bill Picture
Published: August, 2005
Rents fit for a king, a shortage of parking and prices that even have visiting Manhattan-ites scurrying for the nearest ATM, have done little to dull the corner that San Francisco has long held on Bay Area cool. The reason is simple, the Bay Area’s ‘burbs have, historically, failed to offer urban-centric hipsters the same conveniences, or the pedestrian and transit-friendly, neighborhood-village feel, as The City.
Now, we’re not sure if it’s a conscious effort on the part of city council members in the East Bay to lure hipsters across the Bay Bridge, or if they’re simply trying to offer a familiar taste of city life to reluctant suburban transplants, but revitalized waterfront communities are beginning to give San Francisco a serious run for its cool.
The most obvious example is East Oakland’s Fruitvale District. Though long ignored by city government and long avoided after-dark by Oakland residents, due to its rough reputation, the century-old, estuary-adjacent neighborhood has recently reclaimed its cool, thanks to ongoing revitalization efforts.
Artists were arguably the first to recognize Fruitvale’s potential. In 1986, creative types looking for bargain rents and plenty of space to express themselves moved into a converted foundry on a trash-strewn stretch of San Leandro Street, and Vulcan Studios, the area’s first artist colony, was born. In no time, the adjoining Vulcan Café (915 45th Ave., Oakland) became as well-known for its bohemian vibe, which it owes to the artists who frequent it, as its top-notch Thai food, and now, other artist enclaves have sprouted up in this largely industrial part of town.
But it was the community development geniuses at the Unity Council that kicked revitalization into high-gear and spearheaded the effort to restore and renew the Fruitvale District. Their goal was to spruce up the area and lure community-serving businesses back without changing the family dynamic of the neighborhood, which boasts a diverse ethnic and generational makeup and a bustling urban flavor very similar to San Francisco’s Mission District.
That’s one of the things that’s so beautiful about [Fruitvale], explains Francis Aviani, a Fruitvale resident and the creator (she doesn’t like the word owner) of Deep Roots Urban Tea House (1418 34th Ave., Oakland).
It’s a walking neighborhood [like San Francisco] and people are always out. And there’s a real sense of community here. If you’re walking down the street and you say ‘hello’ to someone, they’ll smile and say ‘hello’ back. I don’t know that it qualifies as ‘hip,’ but it’s certainly authentic. And I love that about it.
Aviani gave up her job at a tea company two years ago to start Deep Roots, which she describes as a community center disguised as a tea house. In addition to serving tea, Deep Roots regularly hosts art exhibitions and events showcasing local talent, from young graffiti artists and DJs, to emerging musicians and spoken word artists.
A block away, mosaic work by local artist Gonzalo Hidalgo adorns the columns of the Fruitvale Transit Village, the brainchild of the Unity Council. The mixed-use development, which includes housing, shops and restaurants, a child care facility, a senior center, a library branch and an open-air pedestrian plaza, connects the Fruitvale BART station to the surrounding neighborhood’s colorful mix of family-owned discount shops, casual eateries and pretension-free watering holes.
Of course, Fruitvale is also home to the annual Dia de los Muertos (Day of the Dead) festival, a celebration of the lives of loved ones passed featuring elaborate altars created by local artists, such as Ernesto Hernandez Olmos, a popular, Fruitvale-based painter who also fronts his own traditional Aztec band. During the year, many of these artists open their home-studios to the public.
And over at nearby Josie de la Cruz Park (1637 Fruitvale Ave., Oakland), local hip-hop crew Higher Gliffs is giving b-boys and b-girls the opportunity to blow off some steam and show what they’re made of. Higher Gliffs regularly hosts free breakdance workshops and battle-style competitions. Of course, even if head-spinning isn’t your thing, you’re still welcome to come and watch.
[This neighborhood] is like a pocket of rich culture, Aviani adds. I’ve lived here for five years and I feel like I haven’t even experienced half of everything it has to offer. It’s beautiful and it’s vibrant and it inspires me every day.
About twenty miles to the north, in the city of Hercules, a downtown is being created where once there was none.
While the population of this former company town (Hercules was once home to one of the largest explosives companies in the country.) has grown immensely, since it was founded in 1840, the bedroom community has failed to attract much in the way of commerce and, thus, never really established its own downtown area.
So in 1999, visionary city officials and a team of developers chose 167 acres of bay-adjacent land as the future site of a mixed-use district that will include a pedestrian-friendly commercial and civic hub, and nearly 600 residential units.
When it’s done, the town center area will look more like a neighborhood shopping district in turn-of-the-last-century San Francisco than the concrete and steel malls often associated with suburban life. There will be cafes, sit-down restaurants, boutiques, a post office, a library, live/work spaces, offices and even a hotel or two. The only things missing will be the parking hassles, the congestion and, most likely, the big city prices.
Wide sidewalks are intended for casual strolling, browsing and sidewalk dining. Public spaces, many with views of the bay, are perfect for chatting and people-watching.
And the architecture, including that of the surrounding homes, is intended to reflect the Victorian and Craftsman styles that were popular when Hercules was beginning to take shape as a city. Several historic structures have even been integrated into the design. Overall, it’s a much homier and exponentially hipper alternative to the bland, tract-style developments that began popping up around the bay in the 1950s.
Just to the east, Antioch has similar plans to breathe new life into its historic Rivertown district. City officials are currently reviewing proposals for mixed-use developments along the banks of the Sacramento River in an effort to liven up this nearly abandoned area.
What the city envisions is an area teeming with life, and with shops, restaurants and after-dark entertainment that will attract residents of surrounding communities, who now go to Walnut Creek.
If all goes according to plan, you’ll be able to shop till you drop, have a nice dinner, maybe catch a movie or a show at the old El Campanil Theatre (602 G St., Antioch), a former vaudeville house built in 1928 that now screens classic films, and finish off with a trolley ride down to the Beer Garden (809 W. Second St., Antioch), a quaint watering hole, for a night cap on its large outdoor patio, which is perfect for warm summer nights.
Moe Madden, an employee at the Rivertown Arts Center (640 W. Second St., Antioch), believes that the center itself and the forty or so local artists to whom it provides studio and exhibiting space will all benefit from the increased foot traffic.
Right now, we probably get about 20-30 people a day coming in, she says. I expect that would at least double if there were more things for people to do downtown.
Back on the Bay, over in the former naval town of Vallejo, the ball is already rolling on city officials’ plan to give their downtown area, and the adjacent civic center and marina areas, a much-needed makeover.
And what they have in mind is more than just a fresh coat of paint for historic downtown, which is overlooked from the east by the Vallejo Heritage Home District, a cluster of architectural gems, including many by noted Bay Area architects William A. Jones and Julia Morgan.
Vacant, city-owned parking lots will be replaced with multi-story, mixed-use developments, and an entertainment district will be created, with the historic Empress Theatre at its heart.
The idea is to turn the charming but sleepy area into a post-dusk hotspot similar to San Francisco’s North Beach. Creating more housing, the city hopes, will mean more people living and spending in the downtown area, thus, luring more businesses downtown and prompting all of the merchants in the area to stay open later.
The catalyst for this change, according to Annette Taylor, a Community Development Analyst with the City of Vallejo, is the recent and continuing influx of new homebuyers, particularly younger homebuyers, who are attracted by lower housing prices. These new residents, she says, want a downtown with some umph.
Their demands are very different than some of the longtime residents, Taylor explains. But everyone will benefit from these changes. For instance, they won’t have to drive somewhere else to go shopping anymore, or to have a nice dinner. They’ll be able to spend their dollars right here in Vallejo.
This isn’t to say, however, that Vallejo, as it is now, is completely lacking in hip. Downtown is dotted with cool spots. For instance, you can get inked at Pop’s Old Time Tattoo (310 Georgia St., Vallejo), whose wall of vintage flash art is a subtle reminder of the city’s naval past, or grab a drink at the Town House, a dive bar connoisseur’s dream come true. And the sweet-toothed should make a point to swing by My Homestyle Café (523 Marin St., Vallejo), which boasts the best peach cobbler in town for only $3. The city intends to work these and other existing businesses into the revitalization fold.
I wouldn’t call [our plan] ‘a new vision for downtown,’ Taylor explains. I’d say it’s a more complete vision, which we haven’t really had in the past.
